SNF 2016.07 - SNF: MURDERHOUSE vs Neon - Hotline Miami!

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Description: You have a phone call. They tell you to go to a certain place on the Miami streets at night. Once you get there, you find a collection of masks. Rooster, Pig, Owl, Snake. All kinds of masks. Neon has a hit on MURDERHOUSE. MURDERHOUSE has a hit on Neon. Not to kill. But to fight. Neon and MURDERHOUSE will duke it out in the seediest of seeds, on hot Miami nights, on the border between Everglades and Miami. Do you feel like a killer? (WINNER: See within!)




"Detective Romero speaking, what is it?"

"MiAmI tOweR NOrTh SiDE, 3AM"


The strange modulated voice only lasts for a few moments, leaving Neon sitting there almost stunned before she hangs up her desk phone and then picks it back up, quickly dialing in another number in the building, "Hey, Ramirez, I just got a weird call put through to me, I need you to let me know who sent it. ...A payphone in North East? ... Nah, don't bother sending anyone out there, I'll sort it out myself. Thanks."

A few hours later, Neon is cruising down the late-night Miami streets, just as the city is beginning to quiet down. Still, the colorful lights playing through the windshield of her Lambo give an almost otherworldy look. Just ahead of her, the iconic, stepped shape of the Miami Tower has been lit up in the sort of bright colors usually associated with some sort of special event.

Someone had put a whole lot of money into this, which probably meant it wasn't some sort of prank. She was starting to regret all the waivers she'd signed for the Saturday Night Fight people.

As she pulls into the parking lot, a paper sign sends her turning off into a section that had been cordoned off. Almost every spot has been filled with a mixture of 1980s model cars, with a table set up not far from the only empty spot in sight. After pulling in, Neon swings her door up as she climbs out to examine a collection of animal-themed masks with another sign telling her to head out to the plaza.

"...Shit, they're pulling this type of crap on me."With a faint hint of annoyance, the detective snags the owl mask off the the table and distinctly fails to put it on as she takes the stairs leading out to the plaza. Every click of her heels against the concrete brings life into the lights on her jacket, drawing their default zebra stripe pattern in electric purple as she approaches the scene of the action, her lips, nails, and glasses joining in as she takes her final step outside.

Mick had been sleeping the entire trip, but he was awake when his tour bus stopped in front of the horrible garish eyesore and source of light pollution. It wasn't advertised but Mick did, in fact, have a small crew of handlers, a trusted and personal team that got him where he needed to be. The moment he stepped off the bus he was hit by the ugliness of the sight before him, averting his gaze and holding his hand up to shield his eyes. He really wanted to tear someone apart over this.

It was a good twenty minutes before Neon's opponent actually showed up. But when he did? It was an event for sure. Cheap amps and distorted guitar seeped through the hard parking lot like sludge through an eardrum. And from the darkness of nothing, emerged a seven foot ominous figure. Black boots. Blue cargo pants, surely hiding weapons. Behind grey open flannel and a thin white shirt, it was clear that this figure was thick and muscled, black gloves hiding massive hands that promised pain. From his left hand hung a battered and dinged up championship belt, silver plating with blue pleather, with a bit of white tape covering the nameplate, and 'MICK' scrawled over with a few different pens. This belt the figure tossed forward, the belt flying through the air before hitting the hard ground with a hard clang and slid across its faceplate until it stopped at the detective's feet. That was all the respect he had for THAT belt, it seemed!

He also dropped a duffelbag to the ground before stepping forward, but his right hand was holding what looked like an aluminum baseball bat, fresh and new and ready to be used. He was twirling it around in his grip absentmindedly, as if testing the heft and weight before deciding that, yes, it would do nicely.

Up top, he wore a big mask. A horrible dull blue, with a rubbery trunk that came down to the giant's sternum, and gleaming ivory horns that protruded into the night sky. His eyes were hiddened by the blackness of the eyeholes, the strange night lighting casting a shadow that made the whole scene look unsettling, to say the very least. With all cameras on the two fighters, "MURDERHOUSE" Mick had finally come to fight.

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE has started a fight here.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/-------|

Patience is something you have to learn when you do police work. There's no requirement about actually liking having to be patient, but it's impossible to do the job if your ability to tolerate having to wait around doesn't at least let you sit around an entire night waiting for somebody to mess up and get their ass caught and thrown in jail.

However, the fact that right now Detective Romero isn't exactly on a stakeout waiting for a some idiot drug dealer to mess up and get spotted making a deal, but instead sitting in what feels like an overly elaborate prank to waste her time.

It's worse than that.

As Mick makes his appearance on the scene, Neon has already turned to face the entrance by the time that the giant has worked his way up the stairs; he isn't exactly quiet about his arrival after all, and just a look at him gives Neon all sorts of flashbacks to the sort of big, dumb goons you see in every 80's movie that spends a lot of time being quiet and intimidating. Except that the leather and chains type look has been replaced by something far too practical to have ever fit the tone of the detective's favored decade.

"Yeah, so this actually was a giant setup to a dumb fight after all. From the look of you, they wasted their time on trying to be stylish."

COMBATSYS: Neon has joined the fight here.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0             Neon

"Style? That what you call that shit?"

The 'elephant' spoke with that soft lilting voice, his left hand extending out to gesture toward Neon's wardrobe as it to emphasize. Moments later it shot up, grabbing that mask by the trunk, and ripping it off of his head to chuck at the face of the detective all in one fluid movement. The good news for the lightbender is that masks were very harmless as far as projectiles went. It was slow and floaty, and even if she didn't swat it out the way or move her head, it wouldn't do anything if it actually connected.

The bad news, is that Mick was running in right behind it, the handle of that bat now in both of his hands, swinging it through the air and aiming right for the that glossy, stylish melon of hers! With all the malice and hatred the big man could muster, too!

Beneath that elephant mask, it had to be said, was another mask, this one more practical for a fight. Slightly. That black, leathery crude imitation of a face and those horrible inhuman eyes, it seemed Mick might fit Neon's era after all! Just, not the kind of genre she was probably hoping for. Uh oh.

COMBATSYS: Neon blocks MURDERHOUSE's Batting Bushido.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0             Neon

When your entire job is coming in to handle the sort of threats that normal police officers wouldn't have a hope of dealing with, it tends to take more than a basic distraction attempt to throw you off your game. The instant the mask comes into play, it's fairly clear that it's only the opening gambit in all of this. A quick twist of the officer's wrist launches the owl mask that she'd picked up earlier onto a collision path; being far smaller than the elephant, it doesn't have much hope of knocking it back...

...but it hits at just enough of an angle that both are diverted off to the side, clearing the path for her to see the stampede coming straight for her.

With years of experience facing down threats of people actually trying to see her or others dead, this giant alone isn't enough to shake her game. As bat comes crashing down, her arms fly up to intercept it, catching it on her forearms as her lights begin to flow through a flurry of different shades of neon light, her colorful lips breaking just for a moment into a smirk as almost all other expression is blocked out by the bright light of her sunglasses.

"I wouldn't take fashion criticism from a guy who doesn't look like he's washed his hair since the brief period when people thought cargo pants were cool."

Twisting her arm up, she knocks the bat aside at least enough to prevent it from being immediately brought back into play and then squeezes her fingers into tight fists. Suddenly for a moment there are faint glowing lines all across the battlefield as ghostly walls come into play. For the most part, each wall has as little resistance as walking through a spider-web, but with every twitch of her fingers, different walls glow brighter, as if being drawn more fully into existance.

And while Mick is hopefully still recovering from having his first attack warded off, Neon rushes forward to slam a fist right into his chest with enough force to send him crashing back up against a glowing wall that wasn't there seconds ago. Charging in to follow up on the new corner, the detective unloads a rapid-fire series of punches into MURDERHOUSE's midsection, with each sending crackes through the wall until one final blow is enough to send him crashing back through the energy as it shatters like glass, each piece feeling like a ghostly knife.

COMBATSYS: Neon successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Street Desire.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1             Neon

"Shit, you mean I ain't fucking hip? Say it ain't so!"

Mick was talking big, but he still acknowledged the skill of his opponent even as he saw her bat the bat away. He didn't have the chance to bring the big, slow-swinging weapon back around before he was staggered up against a barrier that he didn't account for. The flannel was open to show that white Exodus shirt, which became the target of rapid fists smashing into the big man's midsection. He felt them battering his ribs and his stomach, each impact slumping the man over just a little more until that big heavy right hand of Neon's launched right into the sternum of Mick's. The impact caused the wall behind him to warp and bend until it shattered, the jagged edges like a personal world of pretty glowing hell that Mick was subjected to. The pain was so severe he couldn't even call out. The air in his lungs was driven out, and his eyes were extremely wide in shock.

But shock only took you so far when fighting a figure like Mick. While he was falling backward, while that right hand of Neon's was still extended, instantly two black gloved hands would hurl forward to try and wrap themselves around her wrist. Instantly, using the momentum of his own fall he'd pivot his body, trying to fling the girl behind him towards those lovely rows of classic cars. As Mick fell hard facedown, he hoped to have the detective's skull bouncing off of an expensive front grill as a consolation prize. He could live with that exchange.

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE successfully hits Neon with Quick Throw.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1             Neon

With a sloppy grab like this, the best option available to Detective Romero would have been to use it as an opportunity to get in a few good hits on the giant's way down. Unfortunately, Mick isn't just a wall of meat, he's got the strength to back it up, and the first glance to peek for an opening that she might be able to break open sees that the giant is falling out of her reach before she'll have any good opportunities to go for it. The lost attempt also doesn't give her much time to turn her attention back on the path she's travelling, and Neon comes crashing side first into the the railing overlooking the multiple stories drop from the tower's balcony.

That's a good reminder that she doesn't want to fight this brute too close to the edge; neither of them would likely make it out alive if they took that fall.

Pushing back up to her feet, Neon slips a hand in under her jacket to rub her side and starts walking back toward the giant as he no doubt gets back up from his own fall. Without any words, she starts to circle, the click of her heeled boots on the ground a steady pace as she looks for an opening... then comes charging in at MURDERHOUSE From the side, aiming to catch his arm by the wrist from the side as she twists back behind him, planting her other hand on the back of his shoulder and hauling back on his wrist in a classic controlling maneuver. Her right foot slips in front of his leg and aims to yank it out from under him as she pushes forward at the shoulder, hoping to slam his face right back to the ground.

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE blocks Neon's Strong Throw.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1             Neon

Unfortunately for Neon, she was heading into territory that Mick knew all too well. Even as the mountain of a man pushed to his feet, even as he kept his eyes on the circling flashy fighter, the second she grabbed that wrist and twisted, his mind thought 'hammerlock' and sure enough, his wrist was underneath his shoulderblade and the wrenching twist sent just enough pain to his brain to wake the wrestler up.

"Hey, the girl's a wrestler now? That's fucking precious."

He spoke even as her leg met his ankle, but that's when he tensed every muscle in his leg, and quickly flexed his arm until it was pushing against the pressure she was trying to apply. It was made immediately clear that Mick wasn't going anywhere he didn't want to!

And what did Mick want to do? It seemed he wanted to suddenly spin around, that left arm of his reaching out to grab the back of the detective's hair. Moments later, that big vertical base of the seven footer would lurch down, momentum combining with gravity combining with scary power as MURDERHOUSE tried to headbutt the poor woman all to oblivion. If it connected, she might find that that leather mask of his wasn't very soft at all, especially not with what was traveling behind it.

And the scariest part? That was just the set up, as that left arm would try to hook around the woman's head to double her over. This was to make it easier for Mick to just fall backwards, which would hopefully drive Neon's head into the ground they were both fighting on. It was called the DDT. What did that mean? 'The End.'

(But probably not for this fight.)

COMBATSYS: Neon blocks MURDERHOUSE's London Bridge.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1             Neon

Neon isn't exactly a wrestler, she hasn't put time into figuring out how to work a crowd or given much thought to making her efforts to put someone down flashy in any way besides the use of her brilliantly-colored energy. In fact, on the job, most of her colleagues would say she's possibly too damn serious.

But when you're a cop, one of the worst situations you can be in is to have someone grab hold of you and take control. It means that they can get access to all of your gear, and you don't have any real option to protect yourself. Detective Reya Romero has put in plenty of hours learning to to fight back in situations like this, and quite honestly probably has a better handle on the brutal style of MURDERHOUSE than she would the more elaborate motions of a more traditional professional wrestler.

As MURDERHOUSE takes hold of her hair, she's already repositioning herself, bending her knees to store up the potential to move, twisting her arm back to place her hand on the inside of his elbow, and whipping her free arm up as a wall between her and Mick's forehead as he sends it crashing at her in an attempt to knock her senseless. Just feeling the impact through her jacket is enough to make Neon glad she didn't have to take all of that, but now it's time to act. While MURDERHOUSE is attempting to reposition after the first hit, her entire arm starts to glow, letting off a surge of light bright enough to temporarily blind as she slams her free hand into his elbow, twisting her head carefully to slip free of the fingers in her hair, leaving MURDERHOUSE with nothing to hold onto but a few blonde strands as she repositions far enough back to get some breathing room.

Taking in a deep, steadying breath, Neon extends an index finger out toward MURDERHOUSE, the lights along her arm flowing in a pattern that seems to be building up toward her fingertip as her nail begins to glow like she was a rubber alien puppet. A shot lined up perfectly dead center between the blank eyes of MURDERHOUSE's mask... and then at the last second she twists it to the side, aiming far off from the giant and clenching her free fist to summon one of the hazy wall panels into existance. The beam of energy hits the panel and then bounces off, suddenly firing in at MURDERHOUSE from a low side angle.

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE negates Starlight Passion from Neon with House of Fire.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1             Neon

This chick was way too fast, and it was starting to piss the big man off. She slipped away from his grasp, even as he clawed at the air for her face, or her hair, or anything. In fact as she retreated he was rapidly pursuing, stomping up the trail and about to lay down some serious pain, when that glowing finger stopped him. Those unblinking eyes stared at it, then at her. His arms were outstretched, and his head lowered in anticipation. Then the beam shot out and that's when Mick suddenly acted.

In the time it took for the beam to hit the panel of similar energy, MURDERHOUSE was spinning backwards, flannel pulled off of him and flung forward to meet the path of the projectile coming at him. As the beam bounced and hurtled toward the partially obscured figure, Neon may or may not have seen what Mick was holding in his hands. But surely she would have heard the flicking of a lighter. And the loud spray of a hairspray nozzle. A beam of flame hit that flannel the same time as solid light, causing an impressive fireball and a very interesting reaction. The jacket was toast, but it seemed that Mick himself was completely unscathed by the girl's attempt to blast him. He was also sucking in oxygen through that mask of his, shoulders sagged a little from this constant effort he was putting forth. He knew that before long, he'd have to slow the whole thing down, and fight at -his- pace.

Not landing the blow is a bit of a problem, but it leaves a big advantage: MURDERHOUSE has had to throw himself out of position to even stop the attack. This is a real opportunity to take control of the situation before the brute can sort things out. Neon begins to barrel down on the giant with an impressive speed despite the sharp heels on her boots seeming like they'd make it impossible. As she moves, all the lights on her jacket begin to surge to life, glowing brighter and brighter as they form intricate patterns of ever-flowing waves in every possible combination of neon-shade.

Hoping to capitalize on her openings, Neon twists in from behind the brute, lashing out to slip her right arm around his neck, then planting the left up and bracing it against his cheek as she wrenches them together, clamping down to cut off as much of the giant's breathing as she possibly can.

COMBATSYS: Neon successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Choke Hold.
- Power hit! -
# Disabling hit! #

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/---====|=======\===----\1             Neon

MURDERHOUSE says, "Ho ho!"

Mick made a classic mistake, and focused on the burning spectacle in front of him long enough for the brightly lit warrior to dart around past the miniature inferno and slip around behind the giant before he knew what was going on. Many of the SNF cameras were capturing the blaze in front of them, but there were still one or two who were able to capture the way that Neon skillfully got up to Mick's level, the way her arm slipped around the big man's throat, and the way that she hung off of his back to let that grip around his throat to tighten even more. Mick's arms lashed up, grasping at those arms even as his ears, and the bits of flesh exposed under his mask quickly turned beet red. Mick was clearly looking around desperately, walking and spinning around, exerting energy that he really shouldn't have been doing as that sleeper slowly did its job. His actions were getting sluggish, and Neon might hear that breathing growing even more ragged. All that power, all that strength, and all of it was useless against the trained officer.

Unluckily for her, there was more to Mick than raw physical power. The cameras would see his eyes, thus far rolling in the back of his head, would all of a sudden snap to attention wildly. Instantly he grew rigid again, gone was the wheezing gasping for air. It seemed something changed, and changed without warning.

Mick's arms reached behind him smoothly, in one motion grabbing for the girl's legs and gripping them tightly around his front, like he was giving her some sort of piggyback ride. But this really was to make sure she didn't go anywhere as Mick suddenly leapt straight up into the air. For a big man he had a rather impressive vertical leap. And as he came down...he started tilting backwards, and it was clear that if Neon didn't do anything, she was going to be sandwiched between the ground and nearly three hundred pounds of hate-filled Irishman. He seemed to be too distracted to really commit his all into the plummet, but did that really matter at this point?

COMBATSYS: Neon blocks MURDERHOUSE's Strong Throw.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/---====|=======\===----\1             Neon

Not being sent to the ground is one of the aspects of combat that Neon had put exceptional effort into. While some might wonder if she'd be better suited in that goal by proper footwear instead of high-heeled boots, her track record has been rather exceptional regardless. As MURDERHOUSE makes a grab for her legs, she reacts instinctively, twisting and writhing as best she can to loosen his hold. There's very little time to act if she doesn't want to be flattened, but despite the pressure, she manages to maintain a cautious calm, and it's enough for her to feel a bit of a slip in Mick's grip that she can exploit, freeing her leg with a sudden tug and then twisting the entirety of her body to the otherside to pull herself free of the other hold just moments before the giant hits the ground.

For all her efforts, Reya hits the ground on her hands and knees, pausing for a moment to catch her breath as she works past the pain and then draws back up to her feet, standing over the irish brute and then slamming down the spiked heel of her boot down at his mask-covered face.

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE blocks Neon's Roundhouse Kick.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/---====|=======\=======\1             Neon

Feeling the detective slip away, he abandoned the full on fall and hit the ground at a roll, years as a wrestler teaching him how to move with gravity instead of fighting it. It was almost graceful, the way he went from a shoulder to his knees just in time to throw that left hand up to catch the brunt of that heeled kick. It made an indention in the man's exposed palm, but he didn't flinch for one second, but rather just shook his head. With that low, whispery voice of his, he chose to taunt the former cop.

"Not today, bitch!"

That was the only warning she got before he shoved that boot away and rose to his feet, his right hand coming up in an open-handed uppercut, aiming right for the young woman's throat. If it hit, the sound of the impact would echo throughout their makeshift 'arena'.

COMBATSYS: Neon interrupts Fierce Punch from MURDERHOUSE with Improvised Throw.
# Disabling hit! #

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/--=====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Neon

As her foot is thrown off balance, most people would expect Neon to go stumbling to try to recover, but being sent to the ground means death when you're fighting against some of the most dangerous criminals in the world. Years of practice come back into play as the detective manages to thrust the thrown foot back behind her, planting her toes and bending her knees as she summons every bit of training to secure her footing.

By the time MUDERHOUSE is up to his feet, Neon is already in position, her body pivoting as his fist comes in, wincing as it clips her shoulder, but using some of the energy to aid the motion. Both arms catch him by the wrist as her other shoulder comes in right under his elbow, and then she treats him like a pump, yanking down on on his hand as her shoulder slams up and aims to see how far his joint can move out of position before something pops.

Mick's eyes widen as his wrist is grabbed, and seeing where Neon was going to go, the big man pivots and pulls back at the moment of wrenching. The good news, was that his elbow didn't bend in any ways it shouldn't have bent, and the force and Mick's own strength let him get freed a lot sooner than normally. The bad news, was that he felt his shoulder pull, and heard more than felt a 'pop' as the whole thing soon turned sick and gruesome. Some of the men working cameras turned white as ghosts as Mick's arm was hanging there, hand swaying ever so slightly even as the fingers twitched rapidly. What happened next was not for the faint of heart. Mick's left arm reached up, placing itself on the right shoulder, and Mick took a deep breath, steadying himself. Without another word, he pushed up and a horrendous 'clicking' could be heard as it was pushed right back in where it came from. Instantly Mick tensed his back and looked up, roaring at the sky even as he held that shoulder in pain. He moved it around for a few moments, nodding to himself and glaring up at the woman before him. He was gonna break her face in fourteen different places.

"Think yer cute, huh?"

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE Mick catches a breather.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Neon

There's no response for Mick, the moment he's pulled free from her hold, she's already moved just outside of easy grabbing distance and has returned to the slow circling pattern of looking for an opening. While the intense brightness of her earlier colors has tones down a bit, her jacket has still retained an unusual amount of activity, all focused around the initial design of zebra stripes, now the stripes have sharp outlines that make them appear as though they are standing over an ever-shifting background pattern of faint, colorful shapes.

But as soon as MURDERHOUSE has taken the opportunity to reset his arm, the detective is right back on the offense, lunginge straight for him as she clears the open space between them in a single leap, clasping her hands together as she thrusts her elbow out ahead of her, aiming to catch Mick straight in the jaw.

COMBATSYS: Neon successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Fierce Punch.
# Disabling hit! #

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/-======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Neon

Unfortunately for Mick that elbow caught him straight in his masked jaw, and even the hard leather didn't protect him from the impact that was so hard, it simultaneously turned him around and dropped him to a knee in sheer force. His neck was craned in a sickening way and his jaw wasn't closing quite properly, but Mick didn't have time to assess his personal situation. He had a crazy light-throwing gal behind him who was quickly proving that she knew how to hang with the big boys, and it was made abundantly clear that MURDERHOUSE was gonna have to bring the MURDER if he wanted to walk out of here with a win, and show why he was a champion.

Neon was behind him, and he was down on one knee. She might notice him pushing up an inch only to fall back down to the ground, even as his legs shot out behind him. He was tucking into a roll even as his legs would try to wrap around hers, to trip her down to the ground in front of him in a complicated rolling maneuver. This wasn't a good place for the girl to be because, if this worked for him, he'd have a hold of her left ankle and would waste little time before locking in the dreaded, legendary ankle lock! It wasn't something a garbage wrestler like him typically saw fit to use, but desperate times, it seems, had called for desperate measures!

If he did have it locked in, he'd put extra torque on the move, and even lean down to use his bodyweight to better pin the girl down. He was certainly no submission wrestler and a nimble girl like her could probably find a way out. But hopefully, not before getting a little taste of what Mick was capable of!

COMBATSYS: Neon blocks MURDERHOUSE's Rebound Throw.

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MURDERHOUSE      0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Neon

This fight was really starting to wear down on Neon; she'd spent the last decade training to fight the worst of the worst, but every time she had to hold off one of the masked giant's hits, it sure as hell left her body sore, and she couldn't seem to quite get a read on him despite her best efforts. All she could manage was to try to use all of her experience to just act on instinct, but if MURDERHOUSE got his hands on her, she was certain she'd be in for a world of hurt.

And then he was gunning for her. She couldn't manage to get enough of a read to figure out what his plan was from the start, and there was no way out of having her legs swept out from under her, putting her down where she absolutely didn't want to be. Summoning up every bit of strength she can muster, Reya grabs at the ground, using her glowing fingertips to just barely manage to wrench her leg out from MURDERHOUSE's hands and then rolling along the ground to try to build some distance before she popped back up to her feet.

She really needed to try to end this; if it came down to nickle and diming, she was certain that Mick would find a way to come out ahead. Turning back to face the giant, she hooks her fingers together and cracks her knuckles, suddenly sending a surge of pulse of bright light running up both arms to her shoulders. Her eyes, all but completely hidden behind the bright light of her sunglasses, lock on hard to the giant brute as she separates her hands and clenches her fist. All around MURDERHOUSE, the walls start to glow brighter in a seemingly random pattern, never lasting more than a second before the light switches to another of the hazy walls.

Then Neon comes charging in, lunging to grab Mick by the wrist and the elbow before pivoting hard on her heel and swinging the giant into one of her walls that grows solid just before he connects. Giving no opportunity to recover, she darts in, once more unloading a barrage of fists into his midsection, the metal knuckles of her fingerless gloves apparently trying to find out just how much abuse the brute can withstand. Finally, she draws her arm back, fist clenched tight as she sends a knockout punch aimed for Mick's jaw, the force of it sending him crashing through the wall of energy as it explodes into pummelling rubble that fades from existance as he hopefully hits the ground.

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE Toughs Out Neon's Big City Heat!
> Determined Hit! <

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MURDERHOUSE      1/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\-------\1             Neon

He felt her flip in the takedown all wrong, and before he could get his meaty hands over that dainty little ankle of hers she was slipping away, and leaving Mick on his knees once again. But as she rose up he was already on his feet, glaring at the woman even as she started to power up. That shirt of his was shredded in tatters, hanging on him by a few strands and the collar, but he didn't seem to be in any pain. Her sunglasses never showed her eyes. But his eyes never blinked. The staredown could have gone on a few more years, before barriers and walls around Mick started glowing like an ominous game of Simon Says. This broke Mick's concentration, got those eyes of his to study the little party trick. But if he was intimidated, he didn't seem to show it. Instead, his hand reached up, grabbing the side of his own head, and pushing it the only way until his neck cracked violently and gruesomely, righting itself and looking straight ahead again. Moments later he did that to his own jaw, causing the faces of the SNF cameramen to go ghost white at the sound. Finally, his hands came up to that destroyed shirt and finished the job, ripping it into further tatters and letting it fall from his body, his chest bare. He slammed two fists into that chest then, saying nothing but giving a testosterone-fueled grunt, a challenge if ever there was one.

And Neon sure as hell met that challenge, coming in and grabbing his arm in a modified judo-type maneuver. Mick went flying, smashing into one lit barrier so hard that it changed color from the force of impact alone. She darted in, but she might notice something: Mick's hands went to his sides, fists clenched and muscles flexed, continuing that challenge. She threw those rights and lefts into the torso of the wrestler, those reinforced gloves of hers were making definite impact and crashing into solid meat and bone. And there were grunts and muffled roaring groans coming from the big man, but he wasn't showing the pain that he was moments ago. No, at this point and time, Mick was something else. Something...bad.

Neon threw that big punch, but at the last minute, Mick ducked his head just enough so it made contact with the cheek, and the side of his mask's nose. It was still an incredible hit, and Mick was still sent smashing through that barrier, as it exploded into many shards behind him. He fell backwards, hitting the ground in a backwards roll and springing to his feet suddenly. He didn't even give that attack time to clear before he was charging forward dangerously. His right shoulder and arm was aimed for the midsection of the cop in a big time spearing tackle. If this hit, he wouldn't just run into her, the momentum and his sheer size would turn the move into an impromptu sort of slam even as it was threatened to take the air out of her lungs!

And if that all worked, Mick would waist no time in going to what looked like a side mount, wrapping his right arm around the body of the girl to keep her pinned down, his left hand throwing down punch after punch after punch, aimed for the side of Neon's face and throat.

This, it seemed, was a little taste of the MURDER that Mick wanted to bring earlier. Here's hoping it got delivered this time.

COMBATSYS: Neon blocks MURDERHOUSE's Chaos Theory.

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MURDERHOUSE      1/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\-------\1             Neon


There isn't much time to say anything besides that as Mick manages to spring back up from the hit far faster than she'd intended. Honestly, she'd hoped he'd just end up on the ground and staying there, but this was definitely not what she'd hoped for. It's only by the sheer virtue of years of experience that Neon manages to recover from her assault in time to twist sideways and put herself into a lower crouch while putting up her arms in front of her as a block to absorb as much of that brutal charge as she can. The impact still manages to send her sliding back along the floor, and by now she doesn't even want to imagine just how bad the bruising on her arms is going to be tomorrow, but it gives her enough time to push back against MURDERHOUSE to help her retreat out of the hit.

There just isn't enough time to try to catch your breath in a fight like this, though. With the monster Mick in front of her, Detective Romero just has to throw herself back into it and hope that she might be able to put him down somehow. Reya twists on her toes and goes for a quick strike to the knee with the spiked heel of her other boot, hopefully enough to keep the spacing.

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE counters Light Kick from Neon with Cemetary Gates.

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MURDERHOUSE      1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1             Neon

Mick was getting up from his failed spear attempt a bit slowly, starting to breathe a bit heavier now, knowing that he'd need to pace things more, he'd need to slow this chick down and fight the fight he wanted to fight. He was just getting to his feet when he saw the cop dance in and throw that kick. With a smirk underneath that humorless mask, Mick slid backwards out of reach, with his hand raised in the air and ready. The thing about this fight was, that a giant like "MURDERHOUSE" Mick would always have the reach advantage against a smaller, pluckier fighter. This was proven by the big glove-covered hand slapping over the throat of the detective, clasping tightly even as Mick looked into her eyes, and screamed out in a raspy, haggard voice.


Those eyes, unblinking and intense, stared past the sunglasses and past the eyes, they bore straight down into the psyche, into the soul. That glare from Mick was a power he didn't even realize he had, even now it was reaching into the dark depths of the woman's psychological closets, breaking locks that were there for a reason, and practically ripping doors off of hinges. All of Reya's baggage, all of her nagging doubts, all of her hidden shames, all of her phobias, hell, every time she felt miserable in school growing up. Each and every thing that she had to conquer and move on past in order to become the productive member of society she was today, was all poured out at the front of her mind, in a way that was horrible, and overwhelming.

Mick didn't know any of this was happening, of course. All he knew was that the girl had gone slack in his arms, allowing him to walk them over to where he wanted. He was now standing over that flannel of his, still burning brightly(he used the same hairspray used to make sure Guile's hair stand up proud, the chemicals required to do that were insane.). Then, in full view of the cameras, Mick hoist the woman as high up as his arm would take her, wincing only slightly at his shoulder joint being tested so soon. Moments later she was brought back down, the impact loud and violent, as Neon was chokeslammed right on top of that flaming non-stylish jacket. Not very comfortable!

Most people's worst thoughts might be something like a bad breakup, the loss of someone close, or a finding out that you'd hurt someone by being inconsiderate. For Detective Reya Romero, the darkest parts of her mind are filled with all the times she hadn't been able to do enough. Every body bag filled with a kid hit by a stray bullet in some pointless gang war, the tears on a desparate parent's face as they realize that they'll never get to see their child achieve their dreams, the loss of a fellow officer...

...But the darkest parts of Neon's mind, the parts she fears the most, is that part of her that is always barely restrained. The part that grews angry with the failures and seeks to make its own justice, to make the world a better place with a single bullet. She'd seen this consume others, felt the hot burning rage with the opportunity to make things right. A hunger that would end it all if she ever allowed herself to give in.

And then she's woken from it by an incredible pain that leaves her dropped to the ground. Working once more on instinct, she struggles to roll away from the threat, to build a new buffer of safety, all the while feeling the linger flame of justified rage boiling.

While forcing herself back to her feet, Detective Romero has to take a deep breath, searching for that core of who she really is. This fight is getting far more dangerous than she'd expected if she's got more to worry about than just keeping her body mostly intact.

COMBATSYS: Neon gains composure.

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MURDERHOUSE      1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1             Neon

Mick had no idea what was going through Neon's head. He didn't know what her deal was, he didn't know her life exerperiences. He didn't even know if he liked the bitch or not. But what he did know, was that she was gonna get back up, and she was gonna be annoying to deal with, if he didn't do something. So, while she was writhing around on the ground, Mick was over on the other side of the arena back to his duffelbag, emptying it out on the floor, and grabbing the first thing he saw that really caught his fancy. It was a whole buncha tirechain, gleaming and fresh and ready to do some quality, quality damage. Throwing his head back to throw that long, sweat-matted hair out of his masked face, the heavily breathing giant started rapidly wrapping it around his fist and forearm, sloppily "tying" it around and holding both ends in his clenched right hand, to make sure it didn't immediately fall apart. Not until he wanted it to, however.

So, when Neon worked to her feet, Mick was waiting behind her, body covered in sweat with his chest rapidly rising and falling. His lungs felt like her arms, but he forced himself not to focus on that right now. Instead he had that right hand cocked and ready. And the second the woman turned around, "MURDERHOUSE" would run two steps in with a right hook that was designed to turn that mouth of Romero's into mush, and her face into ground up hamburger. Well, unless she let her sunglasses take the hit. And was anyone willing to do something as crazy as that?!

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE successfully hits Neon with Large Random Weapon.

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MURDERHOUSE      1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1             Neon

That was a mistake.

It wasn't normally Neon's style to let up on the offense, the entire point was to constantly keep the pressure up on the target, prevent them from getting any opportunities to go for something you weren't prepared for. If they got a chance to think, they might well change targets to whoever it was you were trying to protect or even try to flee.

But whatever it was he did to her, she had lost focus and nearly lost control of herself. He'd managed to break her before she'd managed to take proper control, and now he was bringing a weapon into the fight. As Mick swings for her, Reya tries to throw herself out of the way, duck under the arm and get back out to open ground where she can reassess the situation.

That also doesn't work out as intended. The chain catches her in the side of the face, crumpling the frame of her glasses and causing the lights flowing through them to cut out. The metal links tear open a nasty gash in her cheek, letting blood start to pour down the side of her face, splattering on the ground. The lights on her jacket begin to flicker as she feels her body giving out.

Only one last option at this point.

Summoning up every last reserve of energy she's got, Reya Romero drops to one knee, thrusting both hands forward to create a wall of energy between her a Mick that rushes him, aiming to slam him back away from her before she curls two fingers on her other hand and brings three more walls into existance, crushing in at MURDERHOUSE from all sides like a trash compactor.

And then she doesn't get back up, instead slumping forward with every bit of light flickered out, one hand on the ground in front of her the only thing keeping her from going flat to the ground. Her eyes, now visible, stare intently at the giant, praying he stays down, or at least accepts his victory.

COMBATSYS: Neon can no longer fight.

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MURDERHOUSE      1/------=/=======|

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE blocks Neon's Eclipse Overdrive.

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MURDERHOUSE      1/------=/=======|

After the world's biggest puch from hell, Mick opened up his hand and let that length of tirechain uncoil from his forearm and fist, letting it clatter to the ground before kicking it aside. Sucking in oxygen like he was drowning, Mick was a bit slower in approaching his opponent than he should have been. Staggering towards her like a zombie, hand outstretched, he never got the chance to do what he wanted, because a wall was closing towards him and dragging him towards three of its closest friends. They locked around him, strobing colors fluttering through existence like a rainbow's dying heartbeat. From within the box, came a muffled, strained screaming noise.

But then it went away, and Mick was still standing tall. His arms were outstretched, hands closed into fists, looking up at the night sky even as he breathed deeply. Eventually he looked back down, eyes gleaming with malevolence as he started walking back towards the Detective.

"Were you building me a coffin with your little Laserfloyd show? Word to the wise, lass, ain't the first time I been buried alive. And ain't the first time I denied you the satisfaction. Now I ain't done with you yet, so get the fuck up!"

At that his voice got lower and louder all at the same time, an unearthly tone that caused the asshole of every camerman to involuntarily clench with fear. His fists were clenched, his muscles were flexed in anticipation. He didn't care how tired the girl was, it seemed that, seeing as she was still able to look around and wasn't unconscious, the fight was still on according to the big wall of meat and MURDER. And who was gonna tell him any different?

The moment Mick starts moving toward her, Detective Romero's body acts on pure instinct, whipping her sidearm out from under her oversized jacket and pointing it dead on center mass, her finger extended out along the trigger guard rather than actually being seated up against its curved shape. Her whole body screams in agony at any sort of motion, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins is enough to at least give her control of her arms for the time being. Her eyes look as if she'd been through Hell.

"You won the fight, I give. We're done here unless you want to be stupid," Reya's words are steady and almost cold as she stares down the sights of her pistol. "So you can pick up your fancy belt, pose around victorious, and talk shit all you want about me, but understand this. You come for me, try to 'finish things' or whatever, and that's gonna be assault. I'd prefer not to have to fill out a shit ton of paperwork tonight, because I'm pretty sure I have to go to the hospital."

One of the fight officials finally manages to rush in, trying his absolute best to deescalate the situation. "Uhhh, Th-the winner is... 'MURDERHOUSE' Mick!" He tugs nervously at his tie as he stands a good dozen feet away from the confrontation.

One of the fight officials finally manages to rush in, trying his absolute best to deescalate the situation. "Uhhh, Th-the winner is... 'MURDERHOUSE' Mick!" He tugs nervously at his tie, but unfortunately for him, he's standing just a little too close to the Deathmatch wrestler. Without warning a massive hand places itself on the side of the man's head, and a moment later he's making some awful comical noise as he's sent flying. Instead, Mick is glaring down at the woman, staring down the fighter on her knees with a gun trained on him. There's a moment of high tension, that isn't helped as Mick instead turns to face one of the cameras directly. He was speaking into it, but it was clear that he had no problems with her listening in as well.

"You see this? I win this single fight fair and square. Nothing I did was against SNF rules, nothing I did was illegal. And after I beat firefly here she draws a gun on me instead of just facing it with dignity. Good thing this bitch ain't a cop, right?"

In a heartbeat he was back facing Neon, but now he got real low on one knee, inching closer towards the girl and even leaning his masked face closer. His right hand came up...with his index finger pointing to emphasize what he was saying next.

"Far as you're concerned, lovely, I came here to fight a fighter, not deal with a gun-wielding basket case. When yer not having a manic episode, shine a little light on this: You threw your best at me, and it wasn't good enough. It's going to eat at you, knowing how you tainted this good clean fight with your violent bullshit. I'm bullet proof, as far as you're concerned."

At this, his padded, gloved hand turned around, his index finger retreating so that the middle one could come and play. He let her study the contours of that hand for a while, before standing back to that vertical base of his, and finally backing off. He didn't want to actually get shot, after all, that was absurd even by his standards.

COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE has ended the fight here.

As Mick turns to leave, Neon slumps back, no longer propped up in a desperate crouch, but sitting on her ass with her gun lowering. She manages to slowly slip it back into its concealled holster, her breathing deep but growing slower as she feels her entire body begin to give out as the adrenaline passes.

"Christ, that psycho punches me in the face with a fucking chain and then tries to give me shit... what an asshole..."

With that last bit of resistance passed, she turns to the fight official, and just barely manages, "Don't touch... my... car..." before she slumps down to the ground unconscious, the blood pouring from her cheek starting to form a puddle on the concrete.

Log created on 18:57:58 07/18/2016 by MURDERHOUSE, and last modified on 21:15:03 07/22/2016.